Misc WilsonHouse Fics
by malaga
Summary: House/Wilson fluff. Nothing explicit. Some might connect together though, while some clearly don't. Random drabbles that are spawned from my twisted mind. Mostly funny, some slightly more serious.
1. Doing and Saying

His cane thumped against the carpet of Wilson's floor, and Wilson groaned internally before looking up politely from his paperwork. It was a bad thing when House had enough time to bother him before lunch, as it meant he'd had an idea.

The last idea had involved pretending he wanted to go out for lunch, kidnapping Wilson, and driving him to a strip club. Wilson firmly believed that House was the catalyst for his third divorce. And his second. And, if you wanted to get technical, his first as well.

"What do you want, House?" Wilson asked wearily, and House grinned at him.

"I've worked it out. You're in love with me."

His mouth fell open, and he blinked at the man in front of him.

"I'm… what?"

"You," he enunciated clearly, "Are in love with me."

"But I'm not gay! And even if I was, why would I be in love with you?"

"For starters, you put up with everything I do. Even my mother didn't put up with me for as long as you have. All your marriages failed because of how much time you spent with me, and finally, there's the amount of time you spend on your hair every day. It's positively obscene!"

Wilson shuffled his papers, and coughed quietly, as he thought about how to answer House. He could quite easily deny it, all the evidence was circumstantial at best, and the fact that he was an oncologist should tell everyone that he was a sucker for lost causes, which described House perfectly. However, why bother lying?

"Alright. If, and only if, you were right, what would you say?"

"Well, if I was right, which I am, I would say something like; 'Dr. Strangelove is on tonight, and you're bringing the food.'"

Wilson stared at House. "That's it?"

"Yeah."

"Let me get this clear," he said suspiciously, "If I were to tell you that I was in love with you, the only thing you would do would be to tell me about a movie that was on tonight."

"Nope," The man shook his head at the frustrated oncologist, "That would be all I would _say_. I would do this."

He leaned over the desk, and gave Wilson a short peck on the lips. Wilson was having none of this, and grabbed the back of his head, turning the peck into a full-blown kiss.

"Well, you were right." Wilson admitted, somewhat gratuitously, and House laughed.

"Of course I was. I'm always right."

Wilson rolled his eyes, and House swooped in for another kiss.

"Hey, Jimmy?"

"Yeah?"

"Dr. Strangelove is on tonight. You're bringing the food. Chinese sounds good."


	2. If I Were a Betting Man

"I'm telling you, those two aren't just friends, Maureen. I spotted them coming out of Dr. Wilson's office this morning looking very… ruffled." 

"Dr. House and Dr. Wilson? It is more likely House did something to Wilson, and House always looks messy. There's no way House is gay, haven't you heard him and Cuddy talking? Always on about her breasts."

"Yeah, so? Just because he's a sexist pig doesn't mean he isn't that way to everyone. He's always talking about how pretty Wilson and Chase are."

"And what about Wilson? Married three times. All to women."

"Well, I know what I'm putting down in the pool. Those two are definitely together."

House limped away from his little corner. There was a pool on Wilson and him? Interesting.

He definitely wanted in on this action, but as they wouldn't let him in normally (after he won for the third time, the nurses refused to let him bet on anything)…

"Wilson!" He shouted across the entrance hall, and the harassed oncologist looked up from where he was reassuring a mother that her son wasn't seriously ill, nor dying, but in fact just had a hangover.

He excused himself, and almost ran away from the overbearing woman.

"Thank God you got me out of there."

"Right," House smirked, "Now you owe me."

"Oh no!" Wilson exclaimed, "I'm not doing anything illegal for you!"

"No, certainly not. What kind of a friend would ask you to do something like that?" Wilson snorted, and House continued as though he hadn't heard anything, "But I would like you to play lookout for me."

Wilson sighed. "Are you breaking into Cuddy's files again?"

"Nope. The nurses have a pool on us, and I want to win."

"How will you find this pool?"  
House shot Wilson a scornful look. "It's in Radiology. It's _always_ in Radiology."

They took the elevator to the appropriate floor. Wilson got more and more nervous as they neared the Nurses Station, and House humming the James Bond theme song wasn't helping.

"Right," he whispered, "You wait here, and keep an eye out. I'll go photocopy the bets, and we can have a look through back in my office."

Wilson looked sceptical, things were never that easy with House, but stood in the doorway anyway. Ten minutes passed, and Wilson was nearly about to drag House out, whether he had found the papers or not, when he emerged triumphantly, and they escaped before the nurses returned from their lunch breaks.

Once in House's office, they spread the papers out. The reason it had taken so long was that there were several different pools going.

There was the Are They Dating? Pool, the When Did They First Fuck? Pool, and the Who Tops? Pool.

"I had no idea we were so interesting. Look, Cuddy thinks we aren't dating, but hedges her bets by saying you top." House sniggered.

"Chase is in on all of them. Thinks we are dating, first did it a year ago, and that you top."

"I can't find Cameron, but Foreman thinks we aren't dating, and never fucked."

They kept reading, occasionally pointing out funny or unexpected guesses.

"You know, we could probably make a lot if we convinced Cameron to bet on the exact right things." Identical grins crossed House and Wilson's faces.

"I'll ask her," House continued, "and we can split the profit three ways. We should get three hundred bucks each, easy."

Wilson returned to his office, taking the papers, and House paged Cameron.

She rushed into his office, but stopped, looking puzzled when she realised that the others weren't there.

"Cameron, I have a business proposition for you."

"If this is you trying to sell me breast implants again, the answer is still no."

"No," House answered, "But I still think you should reconsider that idea. You know about the pool in Radiology, correct?"

Cameron's face was guilty enough that it was as good as an affirmative answer.

"Well, Wilson and I found out you haven't actually made any bets yet."

"Yes?" Cameron tried to move the conversation a bit more quickly.

"How would you like a three way split of the profits with us? We'll give you the right answers, and confirm them for the nurses."

Cameron thought about it. It wouldn't be wrong to bet about someone if they were giving you permission. She nodded, and House smiled.

"Excellent. We have the sheets in Wilson's office."

They walked in, and Wilson and House folded up a piece of paper with the answers inside.

"Hand this to Brenda, say you want in on the House pools. We'll tell everyone during Clinic Duty tomorrow."

Cameron nodded, and didn't look at the paper, just handing it straight to Nurse Brenda, who looked sceptical.

"Are you sure? These guesses aren't likely."

Cameron nodded. "Put me down for twenty bucks."

-_The Next Day_-

"Hey, Brenda!"

"Morning Brenda."

Nurse Brenda looked up at the grinning faces of House and Wilson.

"What now?" She asked wearily, and House smiled.

"We found out about your little pool, and thought we'd confirm some guesses."

Brenda's face immediately became more interested.

"Yes?"

"Right. Wilson, you tell her. I get the feeling she won't believe me."

"Yes we are dating. First had sex exactly nineteen years, six months, three weeks, and four days ago, I was nineteen, he was twenty-five. He tops."

They left, and Brenda scowled. She ferreted around in the pocket of her uniform, and found the piece of paper Cameron had handed her the day before.

Yes 

_19 yrs, 6 months, 3 weeks, and three days._

_House tops._

She knew the writing had been familiar! House's handwriting.

"Damnit." She cursed quietly, before going round to get everyone to pay up.


	3. Wedding Bells

The day it happened, Cuddy was the first to find out. Wilson said it was because he valued her as a friend. House said it was because she was the only one who could give them time off, plus he wanted to see her in a nice low cut top so he would have pleasant scenery at his wedding.

Whatever the reason, House woke Cuddy at 6:30. This wasn't as odd as it may have sounded. House's leg frequently hurt during the early hours of the morning, and bothering people allowed him to forget about it long enough to go back to sleep.

Normally his friends were forgiving of the calls, as it meant House was in so much pain he wouldn't be able to function if he couldn't sleep a little longer. However, on this occasion, House sounded incredibly happy and awake, so Cuddy's reply to his request for vacation time was slightly harsh.

"But we want you to come too! Wilson and I are getting married."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, and would have hung up if another voice hadn't come on, reassuring her it was true. Normally she wouldn't trust the voice, House having amongst his many talents a remarkable skill at mimicry, but when they both spoke at the same time, she agreed that if they came and picked her up, she'd be their witness.

Later on, she'd be incredibly smug about this choice, as it allowed her to finally know something about her staff before Radiology caught wind of the gossip. For now though, she just wasn't sure quite what to wear. It wasn't going to be a fancy wedding, so nothing too big, and what if it was all one of House's hoaxes? In the end, she settled for a step up from work clothes, but only just.

Outside, Wilson's slightly beat up Volvo was tooting, so she grabbed her earrings and ran. Once in the back, she found herself sitting next to a familiar looking man. After he introduced himself, she remembered he was Wilson's brother, Joseph. He was looking rather nice, in a plain suit, but it was the two doctors in front that were the real knockouts.

Cuddy wasn't sure where they had found their outfits at this time of the morning, but they were looking incredible. House had been forced, probably kicking and screaming, into a black suit with a navy blue shirt that brought out his eyes. He somehow managed to give it a slightly rakish air, despite his appearance being perfect.

Wilson was dressed identically, but everything about him was neat and orderly. Cuddy shook her head; still not quite believing it was real. She hadn't even known they were dating!

Cuddy, to her embarrassment, found herself crying during the wedding. She stood on House's side, while Joseph stood by Wilson, and it was the realisation that they actually were in love, combined with the fact that she was House's closest person (other than Wilson, of course) that made her weep like a baby.

She assured them she wouldn't tell anyone, though she was willing to bet that their matching rings would raise a few eyebrows. Messrs. James and Gregory House were now lawfully wed, and she knew House would have fun telling everyone.

"Good morning ducklings!" House carolled as he limped into the room.

Chase, ever pedantic, pointed out that it was past twelve.

"Yes, but in Australia, it's morning. Honestly, forgetting your homeland?"

Chase ignored him, and House limped up to the white board.

"So, what new and unusual cases do we have today?"

"Nothing." Foreman replied, slightly sourly. He was beginning to realise why House hated Clinic Duty so much.

"Damn. Oh well, Clinic Duty it is then." He left, whistling a cheerful little tune as he walked over to the elevator.

"Someone got laid last night!" Foreman snickered, and Cameron scowled at him.

"That isn't the only reason people can be cheerful."

"She's just sour, because it wasn't her he was with." Chase put in, then winced as Cameron turned to glare at him too.

"I bet you fifty bucks that he's so cheerful because he got some last night."

"Fine. You're on."

The doctors walked down to the examining rooms, Cameron and Foreman to get proof, Chase for entertainment value.

Cameron poked her head into Exam Room 3.

"Dr. House?" She called out meekly, and House turned to see who it was.

"Here. Take these. Follow the instructions."

He chucked a pill bottle to a teenager, who left as the three doctors entered the room.

"Do we have a case?"

"No. But Foreman was wondering why you were so cheerful this morning…"

House chuckled, "Let me guess. You put money on me being so happy because I got laid, Cameron put it on another reason, and the Wombat is here for fun."

They all nodded, used to House's seeming omniscience.

"Fine. Technically, Cameron is right, my good mood is for another reason. However," he interjected, as money started to change hands with ill grace, "I did get some last night. And this morning."

"Then who wins?" Foreman asked, looking slightly confused.

"I do." He grabbed the money off them both, and limped up to the front desk. "House, signing out."

The ducklings followed, still moaning about the results. It was Chase who first thought to ask the question they'd forgotten.

"Why were you so happy then?"

House waved a hand in his face, and Chase grabbed it.

"You got… Married?"

The other two gasped.

"What woman would take you, other than Cameron?" Cameron slapped Foreman on the arm, but seemed curious as well.

"No woman, apparently. Though I think I could have had Cuddy. She seemed happy enough to be on my side."

"What do you mean, no woman?" Cameron asked curiously.

"Just what I said. I married Wilson." While they still stood there, he backed into the elevator, still clutching their money. "Don't forget you have clinic duty!"


	4. A Family Matter

House's family lived far away from him, and he wasn't exactly close to anyone else, so it felt natural for Wilson to invite him to his house for the holidays.

Med school was a gloomy place at the best of times, and Christmas was the worst time to be alone. When they got to the Wilson's, Jimmy's mother made a huge fuss over House, and he was so charming and polite (apparently he was capable of it) that James was told the next year to invite him again.

So he did. It became a yearly tradition of packing up and heading to the big old house for Christmas. Then Wilson got married.

They still packed up and went to the Wilson's, but it felt different. House was treated like family, while Mrs. James Wilson was an outsider. Everyone was nice enough, but the nieces and nephews crowded around House and Wilson, and Wilson's father chatted quietly to House, and his mother talked about how handsome they both were.

It was the same every year she went, and after the divorce, everyone except Wilson was quietly relieved that things were back to normal.

The next wife heard the story from a family member who visited, and she quietly determined that House would not come this year. Wilson agreed, and House spent his Christmas drunk, watching bad horror movies.

The new wife lived a bad horror movie. Food wasn't offered to her, and when drinks were passed around, one was 'forgotten'. Anyone she spoke to either had an anecdote about House, or wondered where he could be. She cried on the way home, and while Wilson comforted her, next year, House came to Christmas, and she didn't.

The third wife simply didn't care, as she and Wilson had bigger issues. Wilson's mother quietly disapproved, but didn't have a chance to implement any removal techniques, as half way through the evening, the woman stormed out.

End of third marriage.

Finally, things were like college again. The family was happy, Wilson was happy, House was as happy as House could be (vaguely content, but paranoid about the future).

Then, one year, Wilson turned up with a look on his face that everyone present recognized. It was the patented 'I got married again…' look they'd all seen before. All eyes turned to the door, as they waited for the latest one to come through. House came in, and everyone jumped up to congratulate the happy couple. The most common comment was "What took you so long?" to which they had no real answer.


	5. Liar, Liar,

"You are the only person I know who always sounds as if he's lying, but who always tells the truth. No one ever believes you, but…"

House looked over as the sudden pause came, and smiled at the sight of a very drunk Wilson, snoring on his side of the bed. He folded the covers over them both, and went to sleep, and idea floating around in his head.

"Oh God, why did I let you get me drunk on a work night?" Wilson's voice was slightly muffled as he hunted through the wardrobe for a shirt.

"I did nothing," House objected, "You got drunk all on your own."

"Why is it that I think you are most amused by this? Don't answer. I'll give you a kiss later, when you don't have morning breath." Wilson grabbed his tie and rushed out the door.

It was moments like this, House reflected as he snuggled deeper under the covers, which made him glad he had no work ethic, and that everyone actually preferred him not coming to work on time.

"You're late." Cuddy stood before him looking disapproving. The exception to the rule.

"No, I'm not." He breezed past her, wincing and she grabbed his shoulder.

"Fine. I was in a deep relationship with my hand, a bottle of baby oil, and a rather imaginative image, and I don't want to ruin my love life just for my career."

Cuddy tried not to smile. "Double clinic duty this week."

House scowled, and wandered up to his office. That was cruel and unusual punishment!

Cameron looked up as he entered the office.

"What's wrong?" she asked. If any of the other ducklings had asked, it would be for a selfish reason, but she was actually that sweet, and that much fun to wind up. Wilson did say no one ever believed the truth…

"Wilson was too drunk to put out last night, so I'm feeling frustrated." House grinned at the look on the woman's face. Chase and Foreman were studiously ignoring their boss, but Cameron still hadn't worked out whether he was serious.

"Plus, I'm on double clinic duty for coming in late again."

House was fairly sure she let out a sigh of relief. This 'truth' thing was fun.


	6. When The Devil Comes To Town

Yet another staff meeting was going on, and everyone was excited and trying to present the best possible image to the new staff member who was arriving this afternoon. Well, almost everyone, Wilson amended internally, looking at House, who was currently leaning on his shoulder and snoring quietly. 

Actually, Wilson wasn't entirely sure if House even knew about the new guy. Cuddy normally put especially important memos that he needed to see in a folder marked 'Private' on her computer for him to break in and look at, but he doubted she had bothered in this case.

"And, the final item of the day, I'm pleased to introduce our newest doctor, Dr. Timothy White."

Everyone stood up to greet him, and the commotion managed to rouse House.

"Wha's goin' on?" He slurred quietly to Wilson.

"Our new doctor." He pointed up the front, and House went pale.

"I have to go, important saving lives stuff. See you at lunch?"

He hurried out of the room, Wilson staring at his swiftly retreating back. That wasn't the reaction he'd expected, and he wanted to find out why.

"Hi," Wilson walked up and held out his hand, "I'm James Wilson, and I'm also saying hello on behalf on Gregory House, who leaves all meetings as soon as possible. I'm sure you'll see him in the next couple of days."

The man smiled, "I'm sure I will. Actually, if you could direct me to his office, I'd be much obliged. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Wilson wrestled with his morals for a moment. His good side was telling him that his best friend was deliberately avoiding this man, and so wouldn't appreciate him being shown House's office, but his bad side (which made sarcastic comments pop up at inopportune times, and sounded rather like House) was pointing out how entertaining that conversation sounded as if it would be.

"Certainly," he said, making up his mind, "I can even lead you there. My office is right next door, you see."

"Thank you."

They walked in silence to the elevator while Wilson tried to think of a conversation starter. 'Why doesn't House want to see you?' was rejected, and 'How do you know House?' sounded wrong.

"What kind of a doctor are you?" Wilson eventually asked.

"I'm a surgeon. How about you?"

"An oncologist."

"Difficult work, knowing most of your patients will probably die."

"Well," Wilson said, starting to get annoyed at the man, "We can only hope."

"Hope. A curer of many ills."

Wilson glanced at him. He couldn't quite tell if White was being sarcastic or not, so he simply didn't reply.

"Here we go, House's office."

White nodded in thanks, before walking into the glass room. Wilson followed him, leaning against the doorframe.

"Low white blood cells, kidney failure, and blindness mean?"

White cleared his throat, and House spun around.

"Hello Greg."

"Tim. Wonderful to see you again, but I'm working. Can't talk now I'm afraid."

White smiled, "But I've missed you. What about lunch, my treat?"

"Already got plans with Wilson."

"Dinner?"

"Busy then too."

"Greg…" White said quietly. "Why don't you want to meet up? Just to talk."

"I would, but I really am busy. Lots of clinic duty I have to do."

Wilson and the ducklings all snorted in disbelief, and House glared at them.

"Well, I'll just join you and Wilson for lunch. Do you mind, Wilson?"

"Nope."

"See you at twelve then." He grinned around the room, before leave.

House rounded on Wilson. "Traitor!"

"What?" He asked.

"Now I'm stuck having lunch with an ex of mine, who has been trying to get back together with me for years. It's all your fault."

"Wait," Chase said uncertainly, "An ex? As in, an ex-boyfriend? Of yours? "

"Yes." House said, looking as though he was missing the point.

"But you always talk about Cuddy, and you dated Stacy."

"Oh, you never got taught the full birds and the bees." House said patronisingly. "Sometimes, when a boy likes girls, they have a baby, and some boys like other boys, so they don't have babies. Finally, there are the boys like me, who like boys AND girls, but won't have babies, because they smell funny, and don't taste good unless you have lots of barbeque sauce. Got all that, or do I need to explain more fully?"

"No," Cameron said weakly, "I think we all got it."

"Fine. Now Wilson and I are going to get lunch."

"But it's only eleven thirty… Weren't you meeting him at twelve?" Chase asked.

"You really are full of stupid questions today. I'm avoiding him, but want lunch. So, I'll eat now, and be called away by… you, Foreman, at ten past."

"I don't know," Foreman said, "I sometimes forget these things…"

"Fine," House snapped, "I'll give you first choice of the jobs I give you three for a week."

"A month?"  
"Two weeks."

"And, suddenly, my memory is coming back. Page you at ten past. Gotcha."

"Now, if there are no more interruptions, Wilson, lunch." He half dragged the protesting oncologist down the hall to the elevator, and Chase and Cameron turned on Foreman.

"How can you give in to him like that? This would have been so funny!" Chase demanded.

Foreman looked puzzled. "I don't know what you mean. I am going down to have lunch. If I happen to warn Dr. White on the way, well, it's not my fault House has to spend forty minutes with him…"

Evil grins spread over the three faces. House had recently annoyed all of them in some way or another, and turnabout is only fair…

They managed to get a prime seat, a few tables behind House. There was a closer one, but would be visible to him, and Foreman didn't really want to be subjected to the hell that House would make their lives if he worked out they had orchestrated this.

"Hey, Greg!" White made his way over to their table with a pleasant smile on his face, while every staff member looked at him with the expression of someone about to witness a horrible accident, but would have no way of stopping it.

The last nurse who had tried to sit with House and Wilson at lunch had been sent crying to the bathrooms five minutes after getting there, and House had been in a good mood that day. Add his natural testiness to the fact that the new doctor was calling him by a nickname, and they expected to see him get the reaming out of his life.

Instead, House slunk lower in his chair, cursing quietly as White made his way over.

"Tim, what a surprise… How did you know to come now, we were just about to page you."  
"A little bird told me," he said tapping his nose.

"Would that little bird be a black man with the mind of a particularly nasty lawyer, who is sitting behind me right now, and should know that our little deal is off?"

Tim looked slightly puzzled, but craned his neck to find Foreman, before nodding.

"So, Greg, you remember how we used to love going to concerts? Well, I happened to have a spare ticket for Friday, if you're interested." He waved the tickets enticingly in front of House's nose.

"No thanks." House dismissed them casually.

"Why are you so against spending time together, Greg? It's not like I expected we'd be straight back to having sex in supply closets, but you could be a little open."

The cafeteria went silent, as everyone who had been discreetly eavesdropping (everyone) spat out whatever had been in their mouths.

"Because I'm deeply in love with Wilson," House said sarcastically, fluttering his eyelashes, "he completes me."

Normally everyone would ignore this, as they did all his insinuations that he and Cuddy were at it like rabbits, but pair the recent revelation with how much time they spent together, and suspicious eyes were being cast over the oncologist.

Tim laughed. "There's no way you're sleeping with him. He's too… nice."

Wilson thought this might have been an insult, but was far too interested in the verbal tennis to care.

"Yeah, well. Maybe I like nice. I slept with Cameron, she's nicer than puppies coated in sugar!"

The watching eyes turned to Cameron, who blushed.

"One time!" No one was even bothering to be discreet anymore. The participants were far too busy to notice that everyone was listening.

"You couldn't handle nice. You thrive on pain, you enjoy it." White's handsome face was twisted into a sneer, and Wilson knew he had to cut in.

"Yeah, we are."

"Lying to protect him, how sweet." White said nastily. "How very nice. Prove it."

Wilson gathered his courage, and pulled House down to his level.

"I don't owe you for making you have lunch with him anymore." He whispered, before thoroughly kissing the older man.

It felt odd being the shorter one, and the stubble hurt, but at the same time it felt right, and House was certainly good at this. The cafeteria had exploded into catcalls and wolf whistles, and Wilson enjoyed the fact that he could hide his blush behind House. He didn't expect his first kiss with the man to be in front of about a hundred people.

"Enough proof?" House asked sardonically.

"Plenty," White spat out. "Actually, I don't think I'll take this job. No amount is worth putting up with you."

"Obviously. Feel free to let the door hit you on the way out."

As he stormed out, House looked at Wilson with an amused expression.

"You lied for me. You said you'd never lie for my sake again."

"It's not a lie," Wilson rationalised, "It's a… future truth."

House just laughed, and kissed him again, blatantly flipping off all the watchers behind Wilson's back.


	7. You're The Piano Man

House got drunk or high as a habit, or for fun. Where normal people did this to relieve stress or forget pain, House did it as a matter of course. Watch television with Wilson, take some Vicoden, drink a double scotch or three, and go to bed. End of the day.

When House wanted to relieve stress, or forget about life, or get new ideas, he played. He would start off formally, Bach, Mozart, Beethoven. Then, he moved on to jazz or rock tunes, and finally, he'd play improv.

Wilson could always tell how House's day had been by his improvisation work. It was the only time he was fully unguarded, and let out all emotion, and Wilson was always amazed that he let anyone hear the beautiful sounds that came out.

But he let Wilson hear it all, every day. Sometimes, when they were alone at the end of the day, he'd take requests, and while he'd tease Wilson about whatever he picked, he would always play it, sometimes singing along in his gravely baritone.

Wilson thought House could have been a pianist, if it hadn't been for his father forcing him into a respectable, decent job.

Sure, he was a brilliant diagnostician, probably the best in America, or even the world, but he loved the music. Sometimes Wilson felt inexplicably jealous of the piano, and laughed at himself for feeling that way. He still felt it though.

It was the end of a long day. House was exhausted, but as happy as he got, having solved the mystery, and saved the patient. Wilson was happy too, several patients had been put in remission, and he hadn't had to tell anyone they were dying, which always brightened his day.

So when House found Wilson sitting expectantly beside the piano that sat at work, he threw a few jibes about neediness, before launching into the Midnight Sonata, which was the standard happy day song starter.

At the end of his playing time, House cracked his fingers and stood up, gesturing to the sleepy Wilson to leave.

"You know," Wilson murmured quietly, "I just wish I could show the world this you. Everyone already asks me why I put up with you, and they don't even know I love you, they just think we're friends. This would show them why I love you so much."

He snuggled into House a bit more, falling asleep the instant he reached the car seat. He was woken up to walk into House's apartment, but went back to his slumber once they reached the bedroom.

The next morning he'd forgotten all about his quiet words, helped by House's enthusiastic performance in bed, and Cuddy's scolding as they turned up late.

A few weeks later, at his birthday party, Wilson looked around, hoping to find his partner amongst the crowd of overly flirtatious nurses and oncologists hoping for a raise. Though he questioned Cuddy and the ducklings, apparently no one had seen him. Wilson supposed it had been too much to hope for. It wasn't like House had ever shown up to a staff party without bribery before, why would he start now?

Maybe because he's supposed to love you? An insidious voice suggested, and Wilson shook his head. House had never said he loved Wilson, and Wilson doubted he ever would. There was something about House that wouldn't allow him to say those words, and unless he changed completely, which Wilson wouldn't want anyway, he would never be able to. Which was fine, of course. It was only some little part, deep inside him that wanted to know for sure that he wasn't just wanted or needed, but treasured.

The sound of a piano made all heads turn, and Wilson grinned, not caring how much he looked like an idiot at that moment. He walked quickly to the room that contained the piano, other partygoers following him like children after the pied piper.

House perched on the edge of the piano, playing a tune that sounded like Happy Birthday with a jazzy edge. Once Wilson had come in, House blew him a kiss before everyone else filed in, and smoothly started on the happy day song, Moonlight Sonata. Then he moved to an old favourite of Wilson's, before going to the best moment. Improv.

Wilson smiled as he listened, a single tear falling down his face. House didn't have to say the words, Wilson could hear it anyway.

House stood up, to much applause from the surprised audience. Wilson realised that no one else had ever heard the dour man play, and he ran up to House, kissing him passionately.

"Why did you do it? You hate crowds!" Wilson asked, after they had finished thoroughly shocking the Hospital staff, and disappointing all the nurses (and a few doctors).

House smiled, a warm smile he only used with Wilson.

"For you."


	8. This Closet is Comfy

Despite what he'd believed previously, it was almost as much fun driving Jimmy insane with want as it would have been seeing everyone's expressions when they were told, and so he didn't really mind.

Wilson still wanted to keep them a secret, which House could handle. The Vicoden meant it took a little more to get him interested, and while this was usually a cursed side affect, when playing with the younger man in staff hours, it became rather useful.

After mornings full of accidental touches, or saying his name in a certain way, breathing out 'Jimmy' into his ear, or even just giving him a Look filled with possessiveness and love.

He generally had Wilson tapping on his balcony door by lunch, for a little relief in his office (where no one came in if the blinds were closed, a pleasant contrast to the usual barging in nature of everyone who needed him enough to come to his office), while House himself could hold out all day without showing any signs of arousal.

Their trysts were always hurried, Wilson spending as much time returning his appearance to it's former glory as he did on the hand job or blow job House had given him.

That was the second cardinal rule, no sex at work, because apparently (though he liked to disagree) he was incapable of being quiet. Of course, that rule was ignored completely most of the time, but Wilson did occasionally try to get him to stop.

"Jimmy," House whispered possessively, gasping as Wilson bit on his neck, "Love you."

Wilson came with a muffled cry, leaning back against House with a sigh and a quick kiss.

"Best not to get too comfortable. You realise we'll have to get out of the closet eventually?"

Wilson looked at House suspiciously. As they were currently in a supply closet somewhere on the second floor, this comment could have been taken innocently, if it were anyone other than the man before him.

"I'm comfy here. I think I'll stay a little longer."

"Alright," House shrugged, and Wilson could feel his muscles moving through the thin shirt he wore, "I'll stay as long as you want, I'm just telling you people will get suspicious."

That was why they worked so well together. Stacy's way used to be to give a perfunctory 'Love you!' at the end of any conversation, and House could never give the usual reply. Occasionally he said it after he thought Wilson had fallen asleep or in the middle of sex, but mostly it was couched in elaborate metaphors or puns.

That was okay, Wilson got all these little messages, and returned them, either continuing the joke or showing it with a gesture (usually involving pancakes) that signalled to House the depths of his caring.

"Don't worry. I'll be ready for us to leave soon."

House looked down at the man before him, and kissed the top of his head. Yes, he understood.

"Right," Wilson said, "Come on."

He opened the door decisively, to the rather startled gazes of Cuddy and three nurses, who were apparently either being growled about forgetting to give a patient the proper medication (if so, House was disappointed in Cuddy, he'd noticed several days ago, and remedied it), or being told about the wonders of breast implants.

Probably the former, but he could hope.

"Oh. Ah…" Wilson rubbed the back of his neck frantically. There really was no excuse when you were found leaving a supply closet with your male best friend who had a rather huge hickey that hadn't been there when the pair of you entered.

"I don't want to know." Cuddy said, massaging her temples. "I really don't."

As House and Wilson left, both limping, House turned to Wilson.

"Do you think we should have waited a little longer before leaving that closet?" House asked, eyes sympathetic.

"No," Wilson said finally, after thinking a moment, "I think we left at the perfect time."

A grin spread across House's face, and he groped Wilson affectionately, before heading to surprise the ducklings before the gossip reached them. After all, Cuddy's face had been priceless, and Cameron's could only be better.


	9. Cuddy's Universe

Cuddy was annoyed.

The hospital had certain things that everyone could count on. House would be a miserable bastard all the time, especially in Clinic. Brenda would control the other nurses with an iron fist. Wilson would do anything in a skirt, unless it was the first month of one of his marriages.

When these things changed, it was as though the whole world was going wrong.

House was still a bastard, but occasionally he seemed slightly… Cuddy hesitated to use the word 'happy', but content fit just as well. Brenda still ruled the nurses, not allowing any skiving off, but almost daily she allowed little groups to form around a crying nurse or two, something she usually only allowed after a nasty break up or rejection, which led Cuddy onto the third, and oddest wrong thing.

Wilson was refusing all dinner invitations, coffee invitations, or plain old blatant sex offers. And that was wrong, because he wasn't recently married, and no one could find any new relationships, despite some rigorous spying by the nurses in bookkeeping.

Cuddy's paperwork was suffering as she puzzled her way through these mysteries, and she was late to a board meeting last week because she had been questioning a nurse.

Cuddy's universe was slightly off kilter, and she didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

So, she did the only thing she could do. She called in Wilson, the only one who wouldn't either make sarcastic comments and slither around the truth, or bull their way out of the meeting by taking the high moral ground. Wilson never could lie, and he paid for it every charity poker game, and every time Cuddy needed to know something about House.

"Wilson, what is going on with you and House?"

Wilson blustered and fibbed, but Cuddy's gimlet stare managed to make him reconsider his answers. He rubbed the back of his neck wearily.

"House and I are… together."

And Cuddy's universe moved from being off kilter to spinning out of control, and crashing down around her ears. But, she found oddly, she rather liked it.


End file.
